Don't Leave Me
Disclaimer: POTC is not mine, nor do I own any part of it.
Rating: NC-17 -OneShot
Characters: Jack/OC
Setting: Nighttime, Black Pearl, Jack's cabin
Summary: Jack Sparrow, an empty ship and a beautiful girl in the dead of night. And there's only one thing on the wench's mind.
Liquid moonlight spilled from a starless, empty sky as Jack Sparrow walked to his cabin. It was almost eerie, the light that is. It settled on sails that equaled the endless sky above, allowing the silver moon to illuminate the deck. Because of that, Jack felt no need to carry a lantern and walked on, the soft snoring and mumbling he was accustomed to hearing from his crew absent on this particular night. Elizabeth had requested that they sleep the night on shore; her reason unknown. But of course, being the gentleman that he is, Jack did as asked and dropped anchor at the nearest island, which just so happened to be Tortuga. And because it was Tortuga, the other men all followed and scurried off to the nearest bar to buy some drinks and, for some, find a wench for a one-night stand. The soft thunk of his boots against the ship's wooden deck and the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull resounded on such a quiet night, something he wasn't all too familiar with hearing.
Anyway, as Jack neared the door to his cabin he grabbed a lantern off it's hook on the wall, as there was no moonlight filtering into his Quarters. He pulled the door open with a creak, and for some reason he tried to do that as quietly as possible. Why he did it was beyond him, but it was almost like he had too, what with the mystifying silence and all. The dim light from the lantern was all he needed to spot a figure posing on his bed. Squinting his eyes, he stepped into the room cautiously, unsure if it were human. His past experiences were enough of a warning. He fiddled with the light and tried to make it brighter, managing to somewhat strengthen the weak beam, but nothing more. He got closer and realized that it was indeed a person, a women nonetheless, and she rose to her feet and walked over to a set of candles laying out on a table. One by one she lit them, about four or so, and when she turned around Jack knew who she was.
"I thought you were with the others," he said without much confidence in his statement. He was busy studying her outfit, which was quite the unusual for what she would normally wear. I don't know if you can even consider it an outfit really; there wasn't much to it. The light from the few candles was enough for Jack to see her exposed stomach and legs, and a torn piece of black material wrapped around her chest and tied back in a knot. What appeared to be an incredibly short skirt made of the same material was tied around her waist, with boots that met with her knees. Her hair was let loose, and her face had an exceptional amount of make-up, causing her blue eyes to jump out. She was more beautiful then he could have ever imagined, forgetting the fact hat she was dressed like a wench, and she sauntered over. Her hips swayed as she walked, and all he could do was gawp.
"What would make you think that?" the woman questioned, placing her hands on his chest. She pushed him into the bed and straddled him, and he did nothing to stop her lips from meeting with his, or her tongue from slipping inside his mouth. Her hands went to his coat and she pulled it off, along with his shirt and effects, trailing her wet kisses down his neck and chest, her hips grinding into him.
"Where did you find those clothes?" Jack asked her when she paused for a breath. She looked at him with sultry eyes.
"What does it matter?" She threw open his belt buckle and continued her wild kissing. His hands went to the knot at her back, his fingers beginning to undo it. She kissed hungrily, pressing herself against him, and the little bit of clothing she had was soon on the floor beside his. He flipped her over so he was on top, and paused from kissing.
"What's this about?" he asked, holding back as she tried to silence him with a kiss. He gave in anyway.
"Would you like me to stop?" she inquired, pulling away slightly.
"Of course not," he replied quickly.
"So don't ask questions." Her lips touched the tattoo on his chest, and his soft moans made her hotter. He didn't restrict his kisses to her mouth, but instead let his tongue roam where it pleased, down her chest, on her stomach, between her legs. She felt his prickly moustache on every inch of her body, and she wanted more.
"Is that the best you can do, Jack Sparrow? Just Kissing? I expected more." She put on fake displeasure, but clearly she was the exact opposite. He smiled impressively.
"Apparently you don't like to start out easy."
"Give it to me," she moaned, opening her legs wider and wrapping them around his waist. He could feel her hips grinding against his, and he enjoyed every moment she moaned. Ignoring his confusion and urge to continue questioning, he pushed inside her without hesitation, making her moan loudly, and worked her into the mattress.
He started off almost tortuously slow, his strokes gentle and soft. The wanton wench under him begged for more, crying out into the night as his pace quickened and became more passionate. Her gasping and moaning only turned him on more.
"Ohh don't stop!" she pleaded, her hips grinding to meet with his strokes. Stopping was the last thing on his mind. It was so perfect, him and her on a dark ship, making love with nobody but the moon as their witness. Through the immense darkness the wet sounds echoed, the pleasurable moaning bounced off the cabins walls. He couldn't stop even if he wanted to. It was all so right.
She moaned again and arched her back into him, digging her nails into his shoulders. He felt her climax starting and knew he wasn't far behind. Her body rocked and she yelled his name, the contractions in her core becoming stronger. That was all he needed to make his completion.
"Ohhhh! Jack! Yes! Yes!" She screamed as he came inside her. "More!"
He gave a final passionate push into her before collapsing on her chest. For a moment they both lay there, a thin coat of perspiration on their skin and hyperventilating.
"Jack," she whispered with her eyes closed. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, caressing her nipple with his index finger. She shuddered, and his lips parted and kissed slowly up her neck, nipping lightly at her skin with his teeth.
As she was about to speak again his mouth met with her parted lips and he kissed them, biting her bottom lip. She breathed his named again, trying to preserve the moment for as long as possible. It couldn't end, she just didn't want it too. And clearly neither did he.
